


a little piece of heaven

by spearb99



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Bang Chan & Seo Changbin are Best Friends, Bittersweet Ending, Dissociation, Drugs, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kinda, M/M, No Dialogue, Not Beta Read, POV First Person, Seo Changbin-centric, Stream of Consciousness, Suicide, angsty, changbin is a good boy, i'll leave this to ur imagination, there's a lot of metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:02:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25475062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spearb99/pseuds/spearb99
Summary: Drowning is a quiet, desperate thing. Sometimes he would sing me to fall asleep at the back of his car, the immensity of the night sky was the only thing above us. I was afraid of losing myself in the way, but we were already so far. He kept me warm at night, but I think he was already dead.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Seo Changbin, Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin, Kim Seungmin/Seo Changbin, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Lee Minho | Lee Know/Seo Changbin, Seo Changbin & Yang Jeongin | I.N, Seo Changbin/Everyone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	a little piece of heaven

**Author's Note:**

> well hi,
> 
> eng is not my mother tongue so i apologize for any mistake :D
> 
> i personally thing it would be cool to read it listening to "it's called: freefall" by rainbow kitten surprise bc i think the vibe suits. but its up to u ofc.
> 
> hope u enjoy mwah . .

**I.**

Haven’t you heard the news? A little piece of heaven have fell on the ocean last night. Fell quickly, fell like a comet. It was pretty to see, tiny multi colored sparkles exploding when the little piece hit the water’s cold surface. The water is colder now, colder than ever. I fear the little piece is lonely, so deep down, at its own on the bottomest of the ocean, trapped in the darkness, stuck in silence. I can’t look up to the skies, can’t face the black-hole the little piece left behind. 

Unending black-hole, I feel like it’s intense gravity is going to suck me inside and never, never let me go. Maybe it had already taken me. The emptiness is penetrating, it’s heavy and huge, it takes me whole. It had invaded my inner, consumed my soul. I don’t think I would never imagine such a tiny little piece would leave a hole as deep and huge as that. Just like a wound that will never heal. 

I hate myself for not noticing earlier how bright the skies used to be before the freefall of the little piece. Like a giant canva, gently painted by a passionate artist. The clouds were like glued cotton, the stars like glitter. Dreams were sweet, sheets warm. The atmosphere was a giggly child, if little piece of heaven smiled at me, even cigarettes tasted like gummy bears. Life was the most beautiful it could get whenever I was around him. Despite all. 

I remember as cristaline as water how it all started, the downhill. It was a weird night, the moon didn’t show up, time seemed way too slow. He didn’t like to sleep. Not only couldn’t, but didn’t want to. Because there were plenty of other things way more interesting to do, in his view. And to quote him, “to dream is like jumping out of the abyss without wings to fly”. So when the clocks had passed 2am, little piece of heaven showed up to me, holding his own demons on a leash. 

He asked me if I wanted to find hell with him.

The road was quiet back then, we used to be always high with the uncertainty of tomorrow day. I didn’t know I had got, in fact, only a few more days. I also had no clue what he was actually really looking for, back then. And I still can’t tell if he was one of the big incognitos of life, or he just felt pleased by seeing people falling into a cognitive prison during the process of trying to understand him. But it felt good to just be around him anyway. Maybe I was addicted. He was constantly jittery, and I was afraid to ask. His moods switched too fast. I was still afraid to ask. The mirror didn’t reflect us, there was nobody to prove us real. I was madly in love with the concept of crossing the line of existence with him. Driving non stop until we did not know if we were still real, if we were coexisting with the rest of the human race, if our breaths were allied with time & space. 

**II.**

He laughed at everything I wanted to cry about. I was puzzled. I still am. 

His high-pitched laugh teared the air so pleasurably that I shivered from head to toe every damn time. He was like a thin gold thread tangled in straw. I think he was born in the void. Pretty child with a candid smile and dead eyes. His sorrow had no cure. Little piece of heaven knew how to satisfy himself. He confided in me his wish to fight the devil. I told him he would win. 

I was definitely addicted. His friends told me to watch out in between a pool party and vodka breath. They were dead serious, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was already too immersed. The sunlight hitting the water made it twinkle, proving the beauty in life. The taste of his laugh still navigating over my tongue, my chest was flooded by flower petals and it was kinda hard to breath. They whispered close to my ear that little piece of heaven would never give me what I wanted to get from him. But I got something better in the end, and I wish I could tell’em that.

**III.**

I think I got all the answers, for any and every question, on a lazy sunday. It was hot outside, his giggles echoed over and over again on my eardrums, silly and sweet giggles, melting my soul into honey. Some psychedelic rock shit or something like that was playing in the background, he was feeling the music every way possible to him. His roommate, a really nice dude with curly hair and freckles, had just left a takeout bag next to his bed, untouched since then, his light yellow sheets were all crumpled, my body over them. He was dancing, or floating, the fan was on, whirring & dissipating all around the room the smoke of the blunt held between his cut lips (he used to bite them way too much). He was moving so carefully, as if any and all minimum move could cause him an unbearable pain. It was pretty. And a little bit sad too. But I was loving it anyway. The gray t-shirt he took from his roommate’s wardrobe was hiding the most part of his thick, marked, thighs. His soft skin had a honey-like shade, and the sunlight kissing it was turning it into gold. 

He was a loyal mate of the mess. His place always had clothes strewn all over the floor, piles of book anywhere and everywhere, party decorations from months ago still around. Empty bottles, a concerning amount of painkillers, innumerous paint brushes and empty canvas, an electric guitar (he constantly lost somewhere) and chocolate bars. He has a sweet tooth. Pretty cute if you’d ask me. 

It wasn’t many words that left his lips, I mean, he didn’t really talk much. He tripped over his tongue all the time. I never cared, neither did him. He used to say people never understand each other anyway. There’s a rift in the language. There is, indeed. He was loud on his own way though. A tornado. A prophetic apocalypse, the beginning of the end. His existence yelled where the sound waves of his voice could never outstretch. The rarest diamond, unique and owned by nobody, not even mother nature. Pretty and almost… almost unbreakable. 

He was far, I could see by the way his red eyes were shining to nowhere, alien and gloomy. Way too far to be reached. He was outer space.

A few weeks later, the nice dude with curly hair and freckles was reported missing. No one had a single sign of him. And it has been almost a year and half now. Little piece of heaven often shoved down his fingers in his mouth and bited them down. He was so upset. He was hollow. He had lost the person he loved the most in this ugly, perverted world. He got even more distant. 

**IV.**

Sometimes he would sing me to fall asleep at the back of his car, the immensity of the night sky was the only thing above us. And he’d have sex with the Moon while I was unconscious. I was afraid of losing myself in the way, but we were already so far. I had nightmares every time I closed my eyes, my eyelashes were so heavy and I was afraid of so many things. He handed me a shiny black marble and called it “a compact kiss”. He kept me warm at night, but I think he was already dead. 

It’s cold now. Both inside and out. My hands are hidden in the black sleeves of my hoodie because I’m afraid his friends will find his blood on them. Starboy, I’m sorry I couldn’t read your soul. I think I was too blind with your brightness. You were like paradise’s garden to me. The flowers were gradually drying, I could see it. But I was hypnotized by the colours of the petals. Paralyzed with the fruit’s poison. 

**V.**

Drowning is a quiet, desperate thing. The days were nothing but a fuzzy picture to him. It had never been his fault, I hope he knows that. The mist was blinding his way, I think he didn’t notice he was on the verge of the cliff. At the end of the day, he would turn on the heater as soon as he stepped inside his dorm, just so it would not feel so cold and empty without the nice curled hair dude. His life turned into a facade. He was lying to himself. Laughing harder, singing louder, just to not hear his own choked sobs. Just to not hear his own heart shattering. 

Little piece of heaven once told me about his childhood, when he was missing his best friend so much it started to physically suffocate him. It was a rainy, fresh day, the moss under our skin while we lied down, I could still smell the rain’s scent on my nostrils. He said the streets tasted like cherry cola in the past. He grew up next to his missing friend, they were like the other half of each other since always. His grandma used to make homemade blackberry jelly whenever he seemed down, he didn’t cry when he fell to his knees, nor when he lost his first baby tooth, playing soccer. He didn’t know what he wanted to be, never had a dream, never believed in Santa, or the Tooth Fairy. He had a collection of pokemon cards, Halloween was his favourite holliday, he was absolutely in love with tarantulas. His body ended up covered in scars for being such a hyperactive kid. And he wasn’t ashamed.

I remember asking a little piece of heaven why he had always been so far, so unreachable, so uncommunicable. I was so drunk and the music was so loud, I just wanted to understand. To get closer. To touch him, to taste him, to feel him. But he laughed and said he had much more fun inside his head, inside his mental castle, he had builded it all by himself since forever, and didn’t plan to leave.

Babe, I think your own castle has fallen over you.

The walls have crashed your bones. 

**VI.**

The streetlights highlighted the ethereal lines of his face when he told me he didn’t remember how or when he turned into a painter. It was cold, painfully cold, outside, his puffed cheeks and boopable nose were deeply pinkish, his lips red like cherries. My hands were tucked into my pockets, but I spent the whole time wishing to hold his. He never really cared about anything during his childhood. When he was 12, he started to work at the library. Well, not really, he helped his cousin and actually got the job when he turned 16. Little piece of heaven loved to work there, he loved the people he met, loved the old scent of the book’s page, loved to pick a book and devour it after his shift, sitting outside the café his curly haired friend used to work on. He believed it would always be just him and literature. But things never are like we want it to be, he said. I still don’t know what happened, but I suppose neither does him. 

Once - really, just once -, I got the chance to watch him painting. It was a big canva, he almost disappeared standing next to it, he had always been such a small boy. It was late in the evening, it was gradually getting dark and his atelier was dim. As soon as I stepped in, he asked me to be quiet enough for him to forget I was there till he finished. And I did, of course. 

He was covered in paint and I have never seen something prettier. His big, dark planet eyes were sparkling and he had a little pout as he was concentrated. It didn’t take too long, but maybe I was just hypnotized. The moon was tipsy, watching both of us intoxicating ourselves with our own, unshared thoughts. I wanted him. Never wanted him more. But I couldn’t find him. Even though he was a few meters aways from me, I just couldn’t find him. 

**VII.**

Sometimes, the sea brings to me the smell of you. And I catch it in the air, when the waves are singing prettily, mourning the moon. I catch it in the air, and my body aches entirely. I miss you too much for my own good. Sometimes, when the sea gets more aggressive, I wonder if you are trying to talk to me.

Starboy has never been good with words. 

Are you mad at me?

For letting you dry,

Fall,

Drown.

**Author's Note:**

> so,, the character was talking to u the whole time. or maybe to himself? or maybe god? the devil?
> 
> who knows.
> 
> not me :D
> 
> anyway,, thank you a lot for reading :D
> 
> i hope u enjoyed it.


End file.
